


A Winter in Wayhaven

by CherubHope, QueenVeeples (CherubHope)



Category: The Wayhaven Chronicles (Interactive Fiction)
Genre: Christmas, Christmas Fluff, Domestic Fluff, F/F, F/M, Holiday Cliches, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-11-11
Updated: 2020-12-01
Packaged: 2021-03-09 18:34:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,341
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27510871
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CherubHope/pseuds/CherubHope, https://archiveofourown.org/users/CherubHope/pseuds/QueenVeeples
Summary: Some drabbles for my different detectives and their respective favorite vampires! May contain some fics that aren't romantic in nature and explore more of the friendships.
Relationships: Charlie Rose/Natalie "Nat" Sewell, Detective/Nathaniel "Nate" Sewell, Faustus Valentine/Mason (The Wayhaven Chronicles), Female Detective/Natalie "Nat" Sewell, Lucedio Jansen/Nathaniel "Nate" Sewell, Male Detective/Mason (The Wayhaven Chronicles), Male Detective/Nathaniel "Nate" Sewell
Comments: 9
Kudos: 17





	1. Holiday Baking with Nate

_The Warehouse Kitchen_

—

Heavy footsteps pound closer to the kitchen, making Nate frown and look up from his steaming cup of tea. A moment later, Lucedio shoulders through, several bulging plastic bags gripped tightly. Nate stands quickly with a concerned dip in his brow.

“My word, Lu, did you carry these down all by yourself? You could have called me for help.” Nate tuts and takes two of the bags with ease.

Lucedio lets out a soft laugh. “Oh no, it’s fine, really Nate. Thank you. Besides, I didn’t want to wait for five minutes while you figured out your phone.” He tosses him a playful wink.

The jab is obvious and light; Nate can only shake his head with a soft, relenting smile. They work to unload the plastic bags spread out across the kitchen table. By the end of it, a couple of bags of flour, white sugar, brown sugar, eggs, butter, chocolate, and a small variety of cooking pans and utensils are laid out across the table and even spill onto one of the counters. 

It’s an impressive spread, considering. To top it off, Lucedio unfolds some plain brown cloth to reveal an apron.

An apron fashioned to look like a dog, complete with two floppy ears where the straps meet the apron’s body and a fabric bone in the dog’s mouth. Nate lets out a delighted laugh as Lucedio slings the apron on.

“I certainly wasn’t expecting your apron to look like that, yet I can’t imagine you having something different now.” His chuckles trail off as he admires the visage of Lucedio in such a cartoonish apron. They’d bonded before over their love of dogs and ever since then, Nate hadn’t been able to clear away Lucedio’s uncanny similarities to that of an excitable golden retriever. 

Lucedio shoots him a grin as he finishes tying the apron secure around his waist. “Do you like it? It’s pretty cute, right?”

“The apron is cute enough, yes,” Nate steps forward and draws his finger along the thin strap. The light touch makes Lucedio still, their gazes caught. “Unfortunately it’s not quite as cute as the person who is currently wearing it.”

A light flush crosses Lucedio’s cheeks. He rubs at the back of his neck, a pleased yet clearly bashful grin on his face. “Gosh. Well, uh, I’m glad you like it, because I kind of got something for you. It’s on the table.”

Curious, Nate peers around the ingredients and finds a small package wrapped in brown paper with a delicate red bow on top behind a mound of chocolate chips. Nate carefully unwraps it and he doesn’t hold back the large grin when he sees it’s an apron in a gorgeous cream with two big, brown puppy dog eyes staring up at him.

Nate presses the apron to his chest with such gentleness like he’s afraid it will disappear if he holds it too hard.

“One of the shops on the Town Square makes those, you know? It’s where I got mine. I was doing some shopping and once I saw it in the window I just had to get it for you. But if you already have one, crap, do you already have an apron? I bet you do.” Nervousness starts to bleed into Lucedio’s voice. “I’m sorry, I should have-”

Lucedio shushes when Nate presses a finger to his lips. “Shh, Lu, I promise you I will cherish this apron much more than the one I currently have. Thank you.”

The detective’s heartbeat, which had kicked up a notch when Lucedio started to ramble, skyrockets at the simple, intimate touch. Heat ignites between them, familiar and enticing and crackles like fire splitting through wood. The lip under his finger trembles and it would be so easy, so satisfying, to capture it in a kiss.

For now, though, Nate relishes in the tension brewing between them. They part, though not without Nate offering him a meaningful smile. Clearing his throat noisily as the moment, Lu turns away and rolls up the long sleeves of his button down burgundy flannel.

“Ah, right. Well, I was going to make cookie platters for everyone at the station, the team at the fire department, and for some of the shopkeepers I’m friends with. It’s one of my yearly traditions.”

“One I will be more than happy to join you in,” Nate says, already pulling on his new apron. “Shall I get us started by preheating the oven?”

_Later_

\--

About an hour and half in of scrambling around the kitchen, mixing up different cookie doughs and pulling out finished cookies from the oven to let them cool, Lucedio realizes it was a terrible idea to wear a long sleeve button up flannel of all things. His entire skin feels like it could melt off at any second from the heat. In an (kinda desperate) attempt to cool off, he pops the first three buttons of his shirt open and fans at the heated skin of his neck.

It works a bit. Even if it’s just a marginal relief, exposing his neck and the top of his chest at least feels less constricting. 

His head a bit lighter now, he turns back to Nate to ask him to cream some more butter and sugar only to find Nate already staring at him with such an intensity it feels like the temperature in the kitchen kicks up several notches. 

“Uh, you alright there, Nate?” Lu clears the sudden dryness in his throat.

Nate’s eyes, which Lucedio realizes had been focused on his exposed chest, slide up the line of his neck to finally settle on his face. His dark brows furrow in obvious concern.

“Yes, I’m fine, but you should take a break, Lucedio. Here, sit at the table and I’ll fetch you something cool to drink.”

Nate doesn’t give him the chance to argue by gently nudging him towards the table. Lucedio doesn’t hide the pout he turns towards Nate when the tall vampire comes back with a frosty looking glass of water.

He can’t deny how good that water looks and downs half of it in two giant gulps. “I want to tell you I’m fine, but I guess that point would kind of be pointless now, right?”

“Just a tad,” Nate chuckles. He runs a soft hand cloth across his damp temple, dabbing away at his sweat soaked hair sticking to his forehead. “You’ve already done much of the work, Lucedio, I am fine to take over for you so you can relax for a bit.”

“Are you sure? I just feel bad asking you to do that, what with me… you know, already imposing on using your kitchen.” 

The kitchen in his apartment pales in comparison to the decently roomy area that Unit Bravo has in the warehouse. In theirs he can at least walk freely from end to end without bumping into cabinets and it doesn’t feel like someone accidentally put a walk in closet in the wrong place and decided to fill it up anyway with kitchen appliances.

Nate leans down, both of his strong arms bracing against the table on either side of Lucedio. His deep brown eyes look positively molten as they bore down into him. Another wave of heat rushes over him, and Lucedio considers just dumping the rest of the ice water over head to cool the flames.

“If spending a few hours here with me so that you may use our kitchen is what you consider imposing… then please, feel free to impose any time you’d like to use our facilities. The kitchen will always be open to you.”

Lucedio nibbles at the side of his cheek for a moment before he leans up, a heated smirk of his own to match Nate’s long smile. “Does that offer include imposing myself on your assistance then?”

His pulse pounds so loudly in his head he briefly worries that Farah will come running in at any minute, drawn in by whatever commotion she thinks might be going on. Nate rolls his lips together in thought.

“Oh Lucedio, I do so hope you’re comfortable imposing yourself on me even more.”

Never before has his mouth felt so dry then at that moment. Lucedio’s tongue darts out briefly, Nate’s eyes following the motion and darkening a sliver. They’re already so close, close enough that Lucedio can see each detail of his lowered lashes casting a shadow over his cheeks, and if were to just lean up to close the distance...

Before he can, Nate draws back to a standing position and he’s spinning away on his heels. One hand draws over his mouth to cover the teasing chuckles that slip out.

“We still have quite a bit of baking to do. Anyway, what did I need to do next?”

Lucedio sputters and snaps back against the hard back of the wooden chair. “Ah, yeah, if you could cream a stick of butter and, uh, half a cup of white sugar…”

_Late Afternoon_

\--

By the time all the cookies are baked and cool enough to touch, the antique clock on the wall lets Lucedio know it’s already getting late. All the baking and running around has left him feeling physically tired, yet Nate’s cheerful company and the occasional moment they would spend flirting and exchanging heated glances and brief touches across the other’s back kept him from feeling drained.

Actually, Lucedio is pleased to find he feels fairly energized.

A few times throughout the day, Farah popped in with wide, curious eyes and would sit perched on one of the chairs while they worked. Once, she did offer to help but ended up lowering the hand blending whizzing at full speed into a mound of flour.

Needless to say, Nate was not very pleased at the cloud of flour that went everywhere - everywhere! - across the kitchen. After that, she’d been relegated to sitting in the chair and keeping up idle chat.

Even Adam and Morgan made an appearance, though Morgan only briefly before she commented sneering at the intense smell of sugar and storming back out. Adam saw the mountain of dirty dishes and utensils in the sink and set to work on them. Although he did quip at them for failing to keep a tidy and functional workspace.

Still, he appreciated the gesture. Even if Adam didn’t appreciate the floury handprint he left when Lucedio clapped him on his broad shoulder.

Now at least the end is in sight. All of the thumbprint cookies with their fat chocolate chips, the mounds of rolled snowballs, stacks of gingersnap and chocolate chip cookies sit neatly in the tupperware Lucedio brought over. Only the sugar cookies sit on the cooling racks, ready for the glaze Lucedio whipped up while the last batch cooled.

Both he and Nate work in concentrated quiet, shoulder to shoulder, as they dip the front of the cookies in one of the three glazes, white, red, and green. Cookie after cookie they go, dipping and shaking colorful nonpareils and festive sprinkles in the shapes of snowflakes and Christmas tree before moving on to the next.

Finally, Lucedio sets down the last cookie and swipes his hand over his mouth. He looks over them with a smile and feels his chest swell with the satisfaction of hard work seen to the end.

“Hey, they look really nice together like that, right?” Lu turns to Nate with an excited grin. “I think somehow you made yours look nicer than mine.”

Nate laughs lightly. “I think both of ours look equally festive, Lucedio. But thank you.”

Comfortable silence blankets over them. Lucedio rolls his eyes from the cookies to Nate and can’t help but drink him in. The sweep of his brown hair, the curls that jut out from his bun and fall against the soft angles of his face. The relaxed slope of his shoulders and the line of his arms, folded loosely across his stomach.

The heat he’d felt earlier is still there, yet is not as scorching. Looking at Nate feels more like settling in front of a fire, like he’s being gently encompassed by its warmth and it’s sweet scented smoke. 

Then, when Nate looks back at him with his dark eyes twinkling, it’s like a gasoline soaked log has been added to the fire and it flares between them.

Nate raises his hand to his face and Lucedio’s breath stutters at the thumb that rubs along the corner of his mouth.

“You have a smear of icing right here,” Nate’s words come out in a hushed whisper. 

This time Lucedio doesn’t need to think about leaning up to meet Nate’s lips, not when Nate closes the fractional distance between them and slants his mouth over the corner of his lips. A delighted shiver runs down his spine. He brings his arms up around Nate’s back, tugging him closer, chasing after that first kiss with one of his own.

Whatever annoyance he’d felt at being denied the kiss earlier quickly vanishes as one kiss melts into the next. They kiss, and kiss, and they bump into the counter and send a couple of cookies crashing to the floor but Lucedio hardly notices when the only thing on his mind is how he can taste the sweetness of the icing on Nate’s tongue.


	2. First Snow with Mason

_Faustus’s Apartment, Early in the Morning_  
\---

The feeling of cold creeping along Faustus’s neck probes him from what was a deep, enjoyable sleep. As his body starts to kick into gear with his slow wakening, he quickly becomes aware of just how frigid the room is. He quickly tugs up more of the blanket to cover his exposed shoulder.

Next to him Mason is shivering like a dry leaf in a winter wind. It softens the usual intensity of the deep scowl pinching in his freckled face.

“It’s about time you woke up,” Mason sneers through chattering teeth. “What the fuck is wrong with your apartment that it’s s-so cold?”

Before he settled in for sleep Faustus had checked the temperature of his apartment. He had it set to a mild 72 degrees, a little cool for the fast approaching winter season sure, but warm enough that he shouldn’t have woken up feeling like his toes were icicles.

The memory or something Verda had mentioned off hand before he left the office whispers into his mind. Something about a surprise cold front - “Maybe even snow, Faustus, imagine that.” - and a light hearted suggestion that he may want to bundle up the next day. He’d brushed it off then with a scoff yet…

“Ah fuck,” Faustus mutters with dawning horror. He sits up quickly, his sheets pooling around his naked waist. “Verda did mention a cold front rolling in overnight. I just remembered that.”

Mason snorts. “Great. Thanks for conveniently forgetting that so we’d both wake up with frozen b-”

“Shut up, I’m as miserable as you are. I’m getting up to turn up the heat, alright?” Faustus whaps Mason’s arm lightly. Without the warmth of the blanket, his bare chest takes the brunt of the chilled air rolling through his apartment. One look at Mason huddled under the comforter and sheets lets him know he won’t be the one to make the treacherous two foot journey to the thermostat though.

At that Mason sags with a relieved sigh. 

“Thanks. And hey, maybe once you come back, we can warm each other up in another way too…” Mason trails off with a suggestive note. 

Even without looking at him, Faustus just knows his piercing gray eyes are running over every bit of exposed skin. If the heat in the way Mason looked at him were real, Faustus would swear he wouldn’t even need to bother with turning up the thermostat.

Faustus shivers and it has little to do with the chill in the room. “Oh, sure. I’ll show you just where you can stick those ice block hands of yours to warm them up real fast.”

He juts out a thigh for effect and relishes in how quickly Mason’s eyes snap to the motion. The reaction pulls a laugh out of him, and he’s still chuckling by the time he sets the thermostat to a warmer temperature.

The ancient heating system grunts and groans for a moment like it, too, is upset about being woken to an icy morning. A wave of hot air finally bursts through the old grates and Faustus turns his face towards it with an indulgent sigh.

Just as he’s about to spin on his heel to return to bed, an idea hits him. A few days ago when they did have a brief spat of cold nights, Faustus did drag out his heated blanket from storage, a huge lush thing with a dark plaid pattern. Grinning, he races to the living room where he’d left it draped on the couch, gathers it up in his arms, and strides back to his room.

Mason still hasn’t let much more of his body peek out from under the covers than his head. The vampire cocks an eyebrow when Faustus deposits the blanket across the bed and dips down to find the outlet to plug it in.

“What is this? An electric blanket?” Mason pokes at the fabric with narrowed eyes.

“Yep, a fucking awesome one too.” Faustus hums and dials up the setting on the blanket to something toasty. 

He rises from his crouched position and, though his eyes seem to naturally fall on Mason, they slide over to his window where bright white light tries to peek past the heavy black curtains.

Verda had mentioned it could snow, but it was still only October. Frowning, Faustus marches towards the window and has to squint at the brightness he’s assaulted with when he tugs the curtains open.

“What the f-” Mason hisses from the bed before falling silent.

Snow blankets the entire parking lot, the cars looking like they were freshly coated with whipped cream. It’s such a solid layer of snow that he can’t even see any of the red and yellow leaves covering the ground. Even though the scene from his bedroom window isn’t much to gaze at, Faustus can’t deny that the layer of snow makes it look pretty magical.

An amazed sigh rolls out of him. “Wow… First snow of the year.”

First snow shouldn’t feel so special to him; he’s been through enough winters in Wayhaven to have lost most of his enchantment with it. Snow means hauling out snow chains for his tires and forcing himself out of bed to scrape off ice from his windshield and ugly gray slush that builds up around the gutters. And, in recent years, it’s an especially annoyingly lonely experience since he and Bobby made the break for good - more or less. So he ended up stuck in his apartment sometimes with nothing but a carton of cherry chocolate ice cream and a slew of shitty slasher movies.

But looking back at Mason and seeing the way the white light catches on the tangled messy strands that frame his face, Faustus can’t help but feel glad he got to wake up the first snow with him.

Smiling, Faustus climbs back into bed. The heated blanket is a welcome, encompassing heat, and Faustus moans his enjoyment of the wave of warmth that presses against his chilly skin. Mason draws him in closer and they slot together easily with Fasutus’s head resting against Mason’s chest and Mason’s arm wrapped securely around his waist.

Mason’s fingers rub idle circles at his hip bone. Even though Mason alluded to messing around not even ten minutes earlier, he makes no motion to follow through on the tease. A relaxed, half smile rests on his lips, his eyes trained on the sliver of window where they can both still clearly see fall drifting down slowly.

Faustus smiles to himself. “So I guess you won’t be warming me up after all, then.”

“Nah. Maybe later.” The heated look Mason angles to him cuts through the softness of his words. “But that doesn’t mean we can’t get up to other things....”

A flush of heat races up to his cheeks. Faustus grins and closes the distance, their lips crashing together in a flurry of both passion and sweetness. 

They melt into each other, the kiss unhurried, Mason’s fingers curled over his lower back, Faustus’s hand caught his silky hair. Neither of them have any obligation, not at least for a couple of hours, and Faustus decides it’s a good time to go back to his project of “kiss-all-of-Mason’s-freckles”.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's an ongoing project, kissing all those freckles.


	3. Ice Skating with Nat

Winter is one of Charlie’s favorite seasons: Wayhaven comes alive with twinkling lights strung along the trees and decorative lamp posts, huge wreaths and their equally huge bows hung on every door, and the dusting of snow to top it all off makes it truly a scene to behold. Best of all - at least for Charlie - is the ice rink that opens for the season.

Sports were never really her thing. Sure, she could manage to run a mile at an average pace and Tina roped her into playing frisbee with the fire department at times, but it’s never something she sought out. Ice skating, though? Even the giant Christmas tree that went up right after Thanksgiving didn’t really mark the beginning of the holiday for her the way taking out her ice skates to be sharpened did. 

And now, she thinks with a flurry of excitement, she gets to share the first skate of the season with someone special for the first time in forever.

Nat is already waiting for her outside the entrance to the ice rink, her brown hair falling in loose waves around her face. She’s dressed in a brown plaid jacket that accentuates the lines of her long figure, the jacket splayed open to reveal a woven green sweater underneath. A pretty red flush dusts across her cheeks and nose, which paired with the bright smile she turns towards Charlie, makes her positively glow.

Still, the idea that she’d been waiting long enough to even look so chilled niggles her mind.

“Were you waiting long, Nat? I’m sorry, Tina called asking me something and it delayed me a bit…” Charlie raises a gloved thumb and runs it along her jaw. Even through the fabric she can feel the slight chill radiating off of her skin. “Ah, you are cold.”

If Nat’s bothered by the cold, she doesn’t show it, especially when she covers her hand with her own. “Don’t worry about me, Charlie, I promise I haven’t been waiting long at all. Besides, now that you’re here, I already feel much warmer.”

“I-” Charlie clears the sudden lump in her throat noisily. “How so? I haven’t done anything.”

Nat does a poor job at hiding the laugh that bursts forth with her hand. “Well, if you’re not convinced, I wouldn’t object to staying close to you.”

All that Charlie can manage is a stiff, flustered nod and jutting out her arm for Nat to take. At least Nat conceals the rest of her giggles with a smile as she links their arms together. They make their way up the short entryway to the stout building a few yards away, a rather plain brick of a thing with the standard lights decorating the roof and a couple of wreaths hanging on the walls. Since it’s only late morning and the sun hasn’t had much of a chance to warm the frosty air, there’s not many people in line.

Charlie pays for both their tickets, chatting happily with the middle aged Mexican man, Samuel, who runs the ice rink with his wife Rosa and their adult children. His wife handles Nat’s ice skate rental and, upon a glance, seems to be gushing over how pretty and tall Nat is.

“Ah qué bonita, has anyone told you that you look like a model? I wish I could be tall like that,” she pats the top of her head where she’s gathered her long brown hair in a thick bun. “Then my family couldn’t tease me constantly!”

Nat offers a kind smile to her. “I find that people who love you will find something to tease you about regardless.”

“She’s right,” Samuel tosses a playful wink to his wife. “Even if you weren’t my little cupcake, I would tease you about how loud you snore!”

Both Samuel and Rosa are still hurling light banter at each other by the time she and Nat make their way up to the brick fence surrounding the ice rink, Nat’s skates swinging lightly in her hand. They share an amused chuckle when Rosa’s rolling laughter floats after them following a yelp from Samuel.

Several benches line the outside of the fence, none of them occupied. Off to the side, a set of dark grey lockers stands against the wall, a few doors creaking in the slight breeze. They find the least damp bench and settle on it, huddling close while they work on pulling on their skates.

“You never cease to surprise me, Charlie. I never expected that you would enjoy something like ice skating.” Nat remarks, laces in hand. “I didn’t think you were interested in such physical activities considering how much you dread combat training.”

Memories of getting pummeled by Morgan makes Charlie purse her lips. “There’s not a certain someone here to shove me around the ice rink, so I think I can manage to enjoy it more.”

Nat lets out a tinkling laugh. “That’s very true. How long have you been skating?”

Charlie casts her eyes down to her skates, already tied securely. She fingers at the laces, checking for any looseness. “Since as long as I can remember. I begged my nanny to take me as many times as she would put up with because I couldn’t get enough of it. Even if I would spend as much time on my butt as I did on the skates.”

“Then I’m glad you wanted to share something you clearly feel so deeply about.” Nat moves her fingers over Charlie. When she looks up, it’s to Nat’s sparkling brown eyes. “Shall we?”

The warmth that Nat’s smile lights in her chest floods through her, better than even the best cup of tea Haley could offer. “Yes, let’s go.”

Hand in hand, they stand and approach the gap in the wall where Charlie can see children in bright puffer vests chasing after each other and older couples drifting along the ice in thick fleece, their arms wrapped around each other.

Her blades meet the ice and she glides forward, tugging Nat along with her. There’s not so much as a tremble in Nat’s legs as she follows her out, Charlie notes. Guess being a vampire means having wicked good balance too.

As Nat drifts close and they skate in comfortable quiet, it hits Charlie… just how long it’s been since they’ve had alone time like this. Even if there are a handful of people around, everyone else is absorbed into their own world. No one here to interrupt them, no meetings, no work.

Just her and Nat and the ice.

Charlie draws in a long breath, willing whatever dregs of confidence she has into her nerves, and slides away until she and Nat are at arm’s distance.

Nat arches her brows. “Charlie?”

“I can do more than just skate. I had professional lessons for a few years before I quit to pursue other things. So if you trust me… I can lead you into a simple dance I remember?” Charlie winces at the uncertainty that lifts up at the end of the sentence. “I just thought it’d be nice. Something besides skating in a circle.”

Nat skates in closer, a teasing smile playing at her lips ( _God, she needs to stop looking there-_ ).

“My trust in your physical abilities has never been in question, my beloved-” Heat flares up Charlie’s neck. Nat holds out a dainty, gloved hand. “So I shall follow your lead.”

Seeing Nat so openly offer her full trust in her abilities makes Charlie’s heart swell so big that she’s afraid it could burst out of her ribs. She takes her hand and leads them around a curve, starting slow but gradually picking up pace. The first swing approaches and she gives Nat’s arm one short tug, her only warning, and swings her forward as she arcs around her, their hands parting. 

Nat gives a delighted laugh. It’s a beautiful sound, that laugh. If she could hear it every day for the rest of her life, Charlie doesn’t think it would ever be enough to leave her fulfilled.

They chase each other around the rink, their hands coming together for the briefest of moments before Charlie sends Nat into a swing or a spin. Each time they come together, chest to chest, Charlie admires the red flush dusted across Nat’s cheeks and the tiny snowflakes clinging to her hair.

It’s not long before the final spin. Charlie curves around her, running her hand down Nat’s side to grasp her waist.

A shiver runs through Nat, her dark eyes deepening.

Using all the strength she’s managed to build in training, Charlie lifts Nat as she spins, Nat’s hands flying up to grasp her forearms. For a moment, the sunlight catches the waves of her hair and makes them shine like polished copper and highlights each curve and angle of her face. The thought that she would give anything to make that moment last forever crosses her mind. Sadly, it ends as Charlie sets her down. 

Her skates give a threatening, unstable wobble. And then she’s crashing down, knees first, tugging down Nat with her. Charlie winces at the pain that shoots up her legs and the cold that immediately seeps past her winter coat.

“Shit Nat, I’m so sorry,” Charlie mutters quickly. “That was- That was stupid, I thought I could do it but-”

Nat’s hands on her cheeks cut off her mortified apology. She’s staring down at her, her eyes laughing and so full of genuine warmth that the rest of her words freeze in her throat.

“Please, don’t apologize. That was…” Nat pauses. “That was magical.” Her brows crease. “But you’re not hurt are you?”

“No, no I’ll be fine, the pain is already fading.” Charlie sits up and draws Nat’s hands off her face and settles them in her lap. “I can barely even feel it when you look at me like this.”

All the worry fades from Nat’s face into complete, utter adoration. The intensity makes her want to squirm - she’s just not used to someone looking at her with such total captivation. When Charlie looks at herself in the mirror, she sees bland, something that’s easy to ignore, like a dusty forgotten thing shoved away in the corner of an antique store.

But when Nat looks at her… it’s like she really sees. She sees the grime, the patina, the rust and all the broken bits and runs her fingers along the cracks with the loving caress of an appraiser of fine art.

“I think that still warrants a kiss for the pain,” and suddenly Nat is close, her breath curling against her lips. 

Instead of saying anything Charlie closes the gap. If their first kiss felt cosmic, as loud and as bright as the fireworks that boomed overhead in a rainbow of light over the ferris wheel, this kiss feels like sinking into a mug of hot chocolate - warm sweetness spreading from her lips and tingling down her arms and legs and chasing away the chill. 

Any other time, Charlie might feel embarrassed. Too aware of other people, of their thoughts, of their whispers. But everyone and everything is miles away, thoughts of Nat and her lips against hers and her hands the only thing grounding her from floating away from the fierce force of love she feels for Nat.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is unedited, so sorry for any mistakes! At least it is the proper season for holiday fics... ;)
> 
> I'm gonna go ahead and submit this for 25 (Holi)Days of Wayhaven since, well, it happens in the morning!
> 
> List here: https://wayhavenmonthly.tumblr.com/post/636072862528290816/hey-there-everyone-thank-you-all-for-those-who

**Author's Note:**

> i'm not sorry for all the holiday cliches. ;)


End file.
